


m 




\ 


wM 




l:..v: 


:'- i 




■ . (-1 


m 


il 


BPHIIi''" 


-r—-' 


slji^lll^- 




^!iviliS;-HSr:^ 


rHii'':."' 


^!liBII'!*i|l 


i!^;":'-:' 


I^S*:;-!:^;-;*;?-!!-'::" 




mmi; 





J:mvmymiriQ 




CLiss J^:S3_C4 7 

GoK'rightN"__QJi 



CDEMRIGHT DEPOSIT. 









AND . , ju.-;RPIi AXi) MARY .viii. mmi Ai THE 

INN^ AND SOUGHT ADMITTANCE." Page I9. 



THE STRANGERS 

AT THE DOOR 

A 

CHRISTMAS 
STORY 

by 
G. BAYARD YOUNG 



THE CASTLE PRESS 

PHILADELPHIA 

1.9.1.9 



.i*-^^* 






COPYRIGHT, 191 9, BY 
G. BAYARD YOUNG 



DEC 22 1919 

O0!,A561088 



V 



^ THE STRANGERS AT 
2 THE DOOR 



r.s i 




HE decree had gone forth! 
Rome had spoken. Her 
mandate must be obeyed. 
And so, in fear and 
trembling, each Jewish 
family sought the place of its nativity, that 
there a proper registration might be made of 
all possessions, from the youngest lamb in 
the field to the finest mansion in the city, 
and upon the basis of this property the new 
tax was to be levied. 

The whole land was thrown into con- 
fusion. From the regions of ancient 
Tyre and Sidon, from among the foothills 
of the cedar-crowned Lebanon Mountains, 
forth from the densely populated cities and 
villages in the valley of Jezreel and en- 
3 ^' ^ 



THE STRANGERS 



circling the little Sea of Galilee, and far 
southward to the shores of the Great Sea, 
moved a steady stream of humanity, im- 
pelled by a common impulse. 

For a moment these diverging streams 
met and mingled upon the great Roman 
highways, and then moved on to their ap- 
p<Mnted goal. 

Among those who came under the power 
of the ELmperor's unalterable decree were 
two peasants whose home was hidden 
among the hills of Galilee in the obscure 
village of Nazareth. They, too, must 
obey, and so, in company with multitudes 
of others, they had turned their faces south- 
ward. It was a wearisome journey, not 
only on account of the many miles to be 
traveled, but especially because of the gen- 
eral irritation and vexation occasioned by 
the new law. Galling as was the Roman 
yoke at any time, it seemed thrice burden- 
4 



AT THE DOOR 




THE DECREE HAD GONE FORTH. 



THE STRANGERS 



some in this hour, when every family must 
forego present and future plans for the time 
being, and seek the place of its nativity. 

But, despite it all, in the eyes of these 
two peasants who moved ever southward, 
there shone a light which no darkness could 
quench. Singularly calm and confident 
were they. Simple as were their garments, 
hardened by toil as were their hands, and 
bronzed as were their faces, still there was 
about them such a fineness of manner, 
gentleness of spirit, and nobility of soul, as 
to make all who knew them show them 
marked deference. They commanded re- 
spect without seeking it. In their veins 
flowed the blood of a long line of Hebrew 
kings. 

They were lineal descendants of King 

David, who first sprang into prominence in 

the nation's history when he slew the giant 

Goliath. Then it was that the women of 

6 



AT THE DOOR 



Israel sang, "Saul hath slciin his thousands 
and David his ten thousands." But this 
first great public victory was only the fore- 
runner of the many to follow, and David's 
spirit and undaunted heroism were stamped 
indelibly, not alone upon Joseph, but even 
more pronouncedly upon Mary, his es- 
poused wife. Firm as were the lines about 
his mouth, even more firm were those about 
hers. Difficulties would not dismay him, 
while to her they were but a challenge. 

For some time they had been traveling 
towards Jerusalem in silence, each wrapped 
in profound thought, when suddenly Mary 
said, "What thinkest thou, Joseph? That 
we shall not find room in the inn? Did I 
not see a cloud flit across the sky?" Jos- 
eph did not wish to add, even in the slight- 
est degree, to the burden which rested alike 
upon all, and therefore he sought to evade 
the question. 

7 



THE STRANGERS 



**'Tis true the crowd is very great, the 
largest I have ever seen," he said. And 
then suddenly breaking off the conversation 
and looking far off across the fields, and 
far beyond the distant Judean hills, ex- 
claimed, "'Twas along that road you 
passed when you visited your cousin Eliza- 
beth, was it not?'* 

That visit ! It could never be forgotten. 
As Joseph spoke, a flood of tender, thrill- 
ing memories came to her that made her 
soul leap for joy. So engrossed was she 
in recalling the succession of events per- 
taining to her memorable visit to her cousin 
Elizabeth and the priest Zacharias, that it 
seemed as though she had forgotten her 
original question to Joseph. But had she? 
With fine chivalry, Joseph sought to be- 
guile her by calling her attention to all that 
was beautiful in sky and tree and shrub and 
plant and bird. Late as it was in the year, 
8 



AT THE DOOR 




"hasten ! ONLY ONE DAY YET REMAINS FOR REGIS- 
TRATION." 



THE STRANGERS 



there were still many plants in bloom that 
added their beauty and fragrance to the 
scene, and many a highly-colored bird sang 
his sweetest song as he flew directly over 
their heads, as though he had come with a 
special message of good cheer for them in 
their long journey. Both were nature-lov- 
ers, and were ever on the alert for some- 
thing new in her wondrous domain. 

But their conversation came to a quick 
ending. The sharp ring of a horse's hoofs 
was heard approaching. A Roman cen- 
turion came riding by, lordly, imperious, 
scornful. Scarcely pausing in his mad 
flight he shouted to the multitude that still 
thronged the great highway, "Hasten! 
Only one day yet remains for the registra- 
tion. If your names are not recorded you 
forfeit all!" A pang shot through the 
hearts of many, and especially of Joseph 
and Mary. Night was already falling, 
10 



AT THE DOOR 



and Jerusalem was still twenty-five miles 
distant, and little Bethlehem, their goal, 
six miles still farther. With anxious eyes 
they looked at one another. With a reso- 
lute look upon her drawn face, Mary, the 
Hebrew maiden, said to Joseph, **We 
must ride on into the night." "Impossible," 
Joseph protested. **Already you are too 
worn to travel farther." "But I must," 
she stoutly declared. "Otherwise we shall 
lose our little home in Nazareth, and that 
we can ill afford." Joseph knew it all too 
well. Rome knew no pity, and particu- 
larly with her subject races. Her word 
was like the laws of the Medes and Per- 
sians, which altered not. Trying an ordeal 
as it was, there was nought else to be done. 
Time was so precious now that even the 
night must be as the day to them. 

Towards midnight they and some of 
their neighbors from Nazareth reached a 
11 



THE STRANGERS 



little sheltered valley and sought a few 
hours' rest. But with the twittering of the 
birds at dawn they were again on the 
march. Their progress was so slow as to 
seem almost a retracing of their steps, and 
yet they dared not go faster. 

At last, late in the afternoon, when the 
western sky was all aglow with light, they 
came in sight of Jerusalem. For the time 
they forgot their extreme fatigue, forgot 
their sleepless night, forgot that they had 
scarcely tasted food for four and twenty 
hours. They stood transfixed! Before 
them, built upon seven hills, stood Jerusa- 
lem. Upon Mount Zion rose the temple, 
massive, golden-domed, snowy white with 
her glistening marbles, the wonder not 
alone of every faithful orthodox Jew, but 
of all the world. Today the city and 
temple, bathed in the glory of the setting 
sun, shone resplendent. Nothing could 
12 



AT THE DOOR 



add to their beauty. 

Familiar as were both Joseph and Mary 
with the centuries of their nation's history, 
they saw pass in review before them the 
long line of kings who had lived and. 
reigned in this Capital City. Their good 
deeds shone out upon the canvas of their 
memory like brilliant stars upon a dark 
night, while their deeds of depravity were 
like a dreadful nightmare which was well 
nigh unforgetable. Prophets, too, rose up 
before them, strong, fearless, the beacon 
lights of their generation. As hidden treas- 
ures to them were their writings, so care- 
fully preserved in the ancient Jewish manu- 
scripts, and so faithfully memorized from 
the tender years of childhood. This was 
holy ground! But tarry they dared not. 
The sands in the hour-glass were few, and 
SIX miles yet remained before them. 
Around the green slopes of the Mount of 
13 



THE STRANGERS 



Olives they passed. Over this self-same 
road King David, their grand-sire, had 
marched with his conquering host. The 
feet of Naomi and the royal Ruth had also 
made sacred this pathway that led to Beth- 
lehem. 

As the sun was about to be lost in the 
sea, Joseph and Mary stood at the end of 
their journey. A few belated travelers, 
like themselves, were still registering in 
Bethlehem. In a few moments they, too, 
had given a list of their belongings, and 
were free to seek shelter for the night. A 
deep sigh of relief escaped from both. 

Once outside the booth of registration, 
they stood in the fast-gathering darkness 
with heads bowed in silent prayer. Their 
sense of gratitude was too deep to find ex- 
pression in words. 

During the last two hours the weather 
had suddenly changed. The warm south 
14 



AT THE DOOR 



wind which marked the beginning of the 
day and made it seem like a day in early 
spring, had been replaced by a sharp, cold 
blast which blew in angry gusts from the 
Great Sea, making one feel he could almost 
hear the wild billows break in their froth- 
ing, foaming fury upon the jagged rocks 
which line the coast of Joppa. Snowflakes 
were beginning to fill the night air. 

There was but one caravansary in the 
little town of Bethlehem. For generations 
it had stood there. It was one of the fa- 
miliar landmarks to every traveler, whether 
he came from Upper Egypt or ancient Da- 
mascus. It was the common camping 
ground for all. TTiither the devout Joseph 
and Mary turned their steps. How wel- 
come would its shelter prove on such a night 
as this! Yea, how tenfold welcome! 

But how little they knew the man who 
stood supreme in this shelter of the nations 
15 



THE STRANGERS 



— Zeresh, the grizzled, gruff, and greedy 
innkeeper. What a strange character — 
half Egyptian, half Jewish; a child of the 
desert, bom on an oasis far out in the Great 
Desert, with the heat of the burning sands 
in his veins and inordinate covetousness in 
his heart. His father had been at one time 
a Jewish priest, and his mother an Egyp- 
tian fortune-teller. Repentant, his father 
had taught him the Hebrew Scriptures and 
sought to rear him in the true faith, but it 
was as difficult as facing a sandstorm. 
However, one thing was certain, the inn 
which Zeresh kept was clean. It was the 
pride of his life. Here men found a good 
resting place. True, he drove a sharp bar- 
gain with his guests, but he was obliging. 
By day or night he would do their bidding, 
but alway^s for mone^. 

On this memorable day when Joseph 
and Mary had been approaching Bethle- 
16 



AT THE DOOR 



hem, others, able to travel faster than they, 
had already arrived at the inn while they 
were still many miles distant. Early in the 
day the stream of guests had begun to ar- 
rive. In his eagerness for gain, unused 
places were emptied of tools and imple- 
ments of all kinds — the accumulation of 
years. Swift change followed swift change. 
All possible space must be utilized. And 
still the guests came. Impatient at delay, 
he raged at his faithful, hunchback wife, 
Miriam. She could do nothing quick 
enough. Twice during the day he had 
raised his clenched fist to strike her down, 
but each time she eluded him and escaped 
unharmed. Once an ugly blow narrowly 
missed the head of their little three-year- 
old girl, who in terror was clinging to her 
mother's dress. **Go, you wretch," he 
said, as he gave her a push which sent her 
reeling across the floor; "go and make room 
17 



THE STRANGERS 



for more.** Worn out in body, trembling 
with fear, and sick in soul, the little Jewess 
hurried away to prepare more room. As 
she was fleeing from him, Miriam heard 
old Zeresh mumble to himself, *'Each must 
pay my price this day! Each must pay my 
price! Unthought-of places were cleared, 
and by limiting the space to each, the old 
inn had never given shelter to so many 
travelers as in this night. The eyes of the 
innkeeper glittered and glistened with the 
peculiar light of the wild beast in the forest 
that has caught its prey. "Caesar has 
served me well! Caesar has served me 
well! The nation's misfortune is my 
gain," chuckled old Zeresh as he clinked 
the coins in the large leathern bag which 
was suspended from the girdle beneath his 
tunic. 

And yet there was room. Two rich 
Persian merchants, expected for the past 
18 



AT THE DOOR 



three days, men who for the last twenty 
years had made this their resting place, had 
not arrived. Would they still come? 

And then Joseph and Mary appeared 
before the inn and sought admittance. But 
as they stood before the darkened entrance 
on this cold and cheerless night, colder 
than the chilling wind which blew about 
them was their reception. Zeresh, the 
grizzled, gruff and greedy innkeeper, met 
them under the flickering rays of two 
torches that were hung in the wall. Ori- 
ental politeness at first was his, as he stood 
face to face with these two belated travel- 
ers. A smile played about his large mouth, 
and a warm welcome was apparently to be 
theirs; but as Zeresh made a swift but 
careful scrutiny of them in the dim light 
and noted their simple garment, the smile 
vanished and his face grew hard and piti- 
less. 

19 



THE STRANGERS 



Joseph stood and pleaded for admit- 
tance as only one will plead for a life- 
companion who is dearer than life itself. 
In desperation Joseph pledged Zeresh the 
last shekel in his purse if he could only be 
granted even the poorest place in the inn. 
But this offer the innkeeper resolutely re- 
fused. 

Before the eyes of the covetous Zeresh 
shone the gold of the opulent Persian 
merchants, from whom he not only ex- 
pected to receive a rich reward on this 
night, but also during the long years yet to 
come, and this hope outweighed all the ar- 
guments Joseph could present. 

It seemed as though the heart of Zeresh 
was carved out of the hardest agate. 

The two strangers from Nazareth could 
in no way find a welcome at the hands of 
Zeresh. They stood outside. There was 
no room for them in the inn. 
20 



AT THE DOOR 



"This is no time to open my door to 
poor folks. A fool I'd be if I did not 
gather as many shekels as possible on such 
a night as this," mumbled the Bethlehem 
innkeeper as he watched Joseph and Mary 
disappear in the darkness. 

The two expected guests did not arrive,. 
The best place stood vacant. 

As Joseph and Mary turned away from 
the inn, the darkness was doubly dark, and 
the cheerless wind a hundredfold more 
cheerless. 

As the birds fly home to their nests when 
the storm is gathering, so was it with the 
citizens and strangers in Bethlehem. 

Joseph now realized that the crisis-hour 
in his life had come. Assuredly this night 
would be marked by a great tragedy un- 
less help came, and came speedily. Both 
were already benumbed by the increasing 
cold and Joseph knew full well that this 
21 



THE STRANGERS 



benumbment would soon be followed by ! 

that drowsiness which leads the weary 1 

traveler to lie down anywhere and go to ! 

sleep, but in such a case the sleep is that [ 

long sleep from which no one awakes in ; 

this life. i 

If Joseph could not gain admittance to j 

the inn, which was supposed to receive all I 

travelers, could he expect that any other I 
door would be opened to him in so exceed- 
ingly small a town as Bethlehem? 

He knew not. The prospects seemed to i 

him well nigh hopeless in so tiny a village . 
with its few scattering houses. 

With a woman's quick instinct Mary 

read the thoughts of her protector. Des- I 
perate as was their situation, a deep, sure 

calm reigned in her soul. Far above the . 

storm which sends the clouds scudding < 

across the sky is a calm which no storm, j 

however violent, can reach ; and many f ath- ' 

22 ' 



AT THE DOOR 



oms beneath the surface of the sea is a still- 
ness so great that not a pebble nor a shell 
is disturbed. Thus was it in the deepest 
depths of Mary's soul. She was anchored 
in Jehovah, and knew her anchor would 
hold. The history of the past was in- 
grained into her very being, and she knew 
that as Jehovah had delivered in the past 
so He would deliver now. With this un- 
shaken conviction, she turned to Joseph, as 
the wind raged about them, and said, 
"Fear not Joseph, Jehovah is good and 
never forsakes His own. Did He not open 
a path through the Red Sea for our peo- 
ple? Did He not deliver David, our 
grand-sire, from the lion's mouth? And 
even Hagar, the bondwoman, from per- 
ishing in the wilderness? Has He not 
pledged His word, saying, *No good thing 
will He withhold from them that walk up- 
rightly'? The stars may fall, the sun and 
23 



THE STRANGERS 



moon fail to give their light, but Jehovah*s 
word shall never fail." 

Scarcely had the words died upon her 
lips when a small, thinly-clad urchin came 
bounding around the corner of one of the 
houses. Borne on by the force of the wind 
and the impetus of his running, ere he was 
aware he dashed pell-mell into Joseph. 
Sorely bruised, greatly frightened, thinking 
it was old Zeresh with whom he had col- 
lided, and expecting many a sharp blow 
and still sharper words for his rudeness, the 
little fellow scrambled to his feet and was 
about to redouble his speed when in kindest 
tones a voice called after his retreating fig- 
ure, "We are so sorry for thee, my child. 
Art thou badly bruised?" 

It was enough. That little boy's heart 

flew open in a moment. Curiosity, the 

kindly feeling awakened by Joseph's 

words, the love of adventure — a hundred 

24 



AT THE DOOR 



emotions played riot in this little lad's soul 
and made flight impossible till he had 
asked, "And who art thou? And where 
art thou going? Why art thou not in the 
inn yonder?" 

Patiently Joseph answered the volley of 
questions. Stamping his sandal with a 
wrathful ring upon the hard stones which 
filled the narrow street, the bruised and 
bleeding boy said, "How cruel old Zeresh 
is! How pitiless! And such a night as 
this!" And then, with fine, child-like con- 
fidence, he followed the warm impulse of 
his heart, and placing his little hand within 
Joseph's, he said, "Come with me. My 
father is a big man, the best man in the 
world, and he'll make room for thee." 

To the outskirts of Bethlehem Joseph 

and Mary were led by their unexpected 

little guide. Up to the side of a rocky 

slope he brought them. In the side of a 

25 



THE STRANGERS 



limestone hill there opened a natural gate- 
way. Within could be seen the flickering 
rays of a rushlight. A man, tall, square- 
shouldered, muscular, was within the 
grotto. He stood in the midst of all his 
earthly goods — a small flock of sheep and 
lambs, a cow and her young offspring, his 
faithful donkey, and a shepherd dog. The 
unusual cold had led him to bring his ani- 
mals under cover for the night. Hidden 
from view, preparing the warm evening 
meal, was his beloved wife, and grouped 
about her three small boys. 

Busy scattering the straw over the stable 
floor and filling the manger with provender, 
the keeper of the grotto was unaware of 
the approach of strangers, until his dog 
leaped forth into the darkness and filled 
the silent night with his barking. The 
owner quickly followed, and at the door- 
way of the grotto met the two strangers 
26 



AT THE DOOR 



from far-off Nazareth in Galilee. Micaiah. 
the keeper of the grotto, would have been 
a remarkable man in any age, but espe- 
cially so in this. In these dark days, when 
it was the common sight to see slaves and 
criminals expiring in agony upon Roman 
crosses set up along the great Roman high- 
ways; when the border line between Judea 
and Samaria was never crossed by the or- 
thodox Jew; when the tax-gatherer was a 
hated outcast; when deformed little chil- 
dren were left in the mountains to be eaten 
by wild beasts ; when Roman Emperor and 
Roman Governor and High Priest and 
Pharisee alike valued gold above God, 
riches above honor; this one man, this 
simple shepherd of the hills, with his home 
a grotto, stood uncorrupted. 

He was a lineal descendant of that 
brave Micaiah who had dared to tell the 
truth even to a black-hearted King Ahab, 
27 



THE STRANGERS 



though to do so meant impoverishment, im- 
prisonment, and months of torture by slow 
starvation. Faithfully he had followed the 
family traditions of love and truth and 
courage and a stainless life. 

Quickly Micaiah realized that as birds 
driven by a storm seek shelter for the night 
anywhere, so these strangers had come to 
him, and he bade them welcome. Who 
they were and whence they had come he 
knew not. They were in need, and this 
was an all-sufficient claim upon his hospi- 
tality. 

It was the established rule of his house- 
hold that the best must be for his guests, 
whomsoever they might be. Accordingly, 
he led the way into a deep and high room 
of the grotto, upon the walls of which were 
suspended numberless relics of his ances- 
tors — swords, musical instruments, drink- 
ing cups, tattered and faded banners of his 
28 



AT THE DOOR 



tribe, the tribe of Judah, and scores of 
shepherd's crooks and pipes. Five torches, 
set in various parts of the large room, were 
soon ablaze, and in their light each one of 
the relics could be plainly seen. Each ob- 
ject seemed to be telling the glorious and 
yet pathetic history of the past. A harp, 
an heirloom of more than three centuries, 
stood in one corner, having most of the 
strings broken. 

Often, as Micaiah gazed upon these re- 
minders of the past, he had mused, would 
not the Master arise who would reset the 
broken strings and reawaken the song in 
a repentant people? Had not the prophet 
declared that One would come Who 
would give "beauty for ashes, the oil of 
joy for mourning, the garment of praise for 
the spirit of heaviness?" 

Built along one side of the room was a 
wide manger, partly filled with hay and 
29 



THE STRANGERS 



grain. Here Micaiah spread some large, 
coarse, but clean blankets, while his de- 
voted wife lost no time in preparing rice, a 
hot drink, olives, cheese and bread, adding 
a few dried figs and dates. 

With that fine discernment which a lov- 
ing heart ever gives, the host perceived that 
absolute rest was the coveted boon of his 
guests, and soon found excuse to retire and 
leave them undisturbed for the night, while 
he gave final attention to his ewes and 
Iambs. As the thick curtain fell which 
concealed chamber from chamber in the 
deep cavern, Micaiah lifted his forefinger 
in an impressive manner, which his little 
family knew was a signal for silence. 

The simple toys strewn about the grotto 
floor were quietly gathered up and laid 
aside, and after a whispered recital of some 
of the choicest Hebrew legends, which the 
children loved to have repeated again and 
30 



AT THE DOOR 



again, they, too, went to slumberland. 

Micaiah and Jochebed, his ever loyal 
wife, were left alone. In subdued tones 
they spoke of the stirring events of the day. 
Never had they seen so many people in 
Bethlehem, not even during the Feast Days 
of the Passover. To them it was not sur- 
prising the village inn could hold no more 
guests. 

The welcome accorded the two strangers 
from distant Nazareth was to them a mat- 
ter of course. For the past twenty-five 
years this grotto had been a Cave of Adul- 
lam. Although numbered among earth's 
poor, a simple shepherd people, they had 
made many rich, and the path that led to 
their humble dwelling was beaten hard by 
many feet. At last they, too, slept^ — the 
deep, peaceful sleep of a well-earned rest. 

And Zeresh, the gruff, grizzled and 
greedy inkeeper, likewise slept. Hidden 
31 



THE STRANGERS 



in the thick folds of his tunic was a leathern 
bag containing his treasure. Never in so 
short a time had he received so great riches. 
Even in his sleep he chuckled over his gain. 

While he slept, in the darkness of the 
night his terrified wife crept silently from 
the inn, taking her sleeping little girl in her 
arms, and fled to the home of a cousin liv- 
ing on an adjoining street. There she 
would snatch a few hours' sleep ere he 
awoke. 

As Zeresh slept, a singular dream came 
to him. Before him rose a palace of mar- 
velous beauty. Massive columns of glis- 
tening porphyry and malachite supported 
the building. Floors of shining black and 
white marble appeared in each spacious 
room, and the side walls and ceiling were 
formed from the choicest cedar. Antique 
furniture of strange design and priceless 
value, such as only a King Solomon could 
32 



AT THE DOOR 




as zeresh slept, a singular dream came to 
him/' 



33 



THE STRANGERS 



possess, stood in profusion in every room 
of the royal dwelling. Hangings of gold 
and rich embroidery and costly needlework 
marked the entrance to the succession of 
rooms, while rare plants stood in a hundred 
embrasures, adding their beauty and fra- 
grance to the scene. Scattered over the 
smooth floor, like sands of the sea, were 
beautiful golden coins, so bright and shin- 
ing it was evident they were fresh from the 
hands of the goldsmith. Zeresh trembled 
with joy. His energy had been rewarded 
by this beautiful palace, and, in addition, 
gold without measure. What more could 
he desire? But gradually the scene 
changed. Covering the floor of shining 
marble, the massive pillars of malachite 
and porphyry, the walls and ceilings of ce- 
darwood, and overspreading each golden 
coin, appeared a green mould. Had his 
palace suddenly become a swamp? Thus 
34 



AT THE DOOR 



it seemed, for springing up from each coin 
was seen a tiny white plant which grew 
with the rapidity of the mushroom. As 
these plants took shape they were seen to 
be exactly like the monotropa tmi flora, 
commonly known as the "corpse plant" or 
"Indian pipe." How uncanny they 
seemed! And worst of all, a poisonous 
odor of deadly power emanated from each 
plant, dulling his ears, dimming his sight, 
benumbing his feelings, and stupefying his 
brain. It seemed to Zeresh as though a 
slow paralysis were creeping upon him. 
And then — walking in the midst of the 
palace, with flaming eyes fixed upon Ze- 
resh, appeared an angel, tall, commanding, 
stem of visage. In the center of the large 
dining hall he paused. With awe and a 
sinking fear gripping his heart, Zeresh fol- 
lowed his every movement. Drawing from 
underneath his arm a heavy book, each 
35 



THE STRANGERS 



page of which was embossed with large 
raised golden letters, he opened the book 
near the middle, and pointing with his long 
forefinger to the top of the page, read: 
"ZERESH, THE INKEEPER OF 
BETHLEHEM. Jehovah intended thee 
to give shelter this cold night to two weary 
travelers from Nazareth in Galilee. Thou 
didst close and bolt and bar the door of 
thy heart against them. Thou hast sinned 
the deep and awful sin — the sin of covet- 
ousness; and hast added thereto the blind 
and stubborn unbelief of thy stiffnecked 
people. Jehovah intended thee this night 
to look into the holy and blessed face of 
the Messiah, about whom thy father hath 
told thee for many years, and to Whom he 
sought to lead thee. He was to be bom 
in this thine inn. But now the Desire of 
nations is forever hidden from thee. Thou 
hast rejected Him.'* 

36 



AT THE DOOR 



As the angel was about to withdraw, a 
piercing cry was uttered by Zeresh. 
"Mercy! Mercy! Have mercy!** he 
shouted. With the swiftness of the Hght a 
look of tenderest pity came into the face of 
the angel, and, lifting up his strong right 
hand as if in blessing, he said, "Jehovah's 
mercy is even for the most sinful, for He 
declares, *Let the wicked forsake his way, 
and the unrighteous mein his thoughts, and 
let him return unto Jehovah and He will 
have mercy upon him ; and to our God, for 
He will abundantly pardon.' If thou wilt 
truly repent, thou shalt even yet taste of 
Jehovah's mercy; but if thou dost still 
harden thine heart. His wrath shall abide 
upon thee." And then — the angel was 
gone. 

By this time Zeresh was fully awake. 
TTiat Jehovah had spoken to him through 
his singular dream he doubted not, and 
37 



THE STRANGERS 



that he stood upon the brink of the awful 
precipice, this, too, he did not question. 
Nevertheless, the door of mercy was not 
wholly closed against him. 

The habits of a lifetime, however, are 
not cast aside in a day. Instinctively 
Zeresh felt for his bag of gold. It was 
gone! Under cover of the night it had 
been stolen by one of his guests. Gone, 
also were his wife and child; where, he 
knew not. At first an almost uncontroll- 
able rage seized him. As of yore, the 
spirit of vengeance was about to master 
him; and then he recalled the final words 
of the angel: "If thou wilt truly repent, 
thou shalt even yet taste of Jehovah's 
mercy ; but if thou dost harden thine heart. 
His wrath shall abide upon thee." 

Zeresh stood wrapped in profound 
thought. As some tall cedar torn by the 
tempest, so was it with him. TTie contend- 
38 



AT THE DOOR 



ing forces of two worlds were battling for 
the mastery in his soul. Which would pre- 
vail — greed, hatred and unbelief, or faith, 
hope and love? Would he in the end prove 
a child of the night or a child of the day? 

Micaiah, the keeper of the grotto, as he 
glided across the mysterious line which di- 
vides a man's wakeful hours from his hours 
of sleep, slept the deep, satisfying sleep of 
a man who has toiled diligently and lies 
down in the consciousness of work squarely 
done, and in the knowledge of a sincere 
effort to sweeten the lives of others. So 
lost in sleep was he that he did not hear, 
in the silent hours of the night, smothered 
cries of anguish ; but what he failed to hear 
did not escape the trained ear of Jochebed, 
his loyal wife, and with the swiftness of a 
gazelle she leaped to the side of Mary, the 
espoused wife of Joseph, and was a true 
39 



THE STRANGERS 



"mother of Israel** that night. 

And still Micaiah lay wrapped in un- 
consciousness of the wonders taking place 
about him; and as he slept, he also 
dreamed. To him, too, appeared, not one 
angel, but five. As they drew near it 
seemed as though the radiance of a thou- 
sand rainbows was bursting upon him and 
his family. The thin coverlets overspread- 
ing his children were all aglow with light. 
Their bronzed faces and hands were il- 
lumined with the refulgent glory of another 
world. 

An unseen door had opened by an un- 
seen hand, and through that open door 
rushed the beauty of a light such as he had 
never before beheld. His breath came 
quick and fast. His big rough hands quiv- 
ered with excitement. What might it all 
mean? As the first angel spoke, he said, 
"Thy name is Micaiah. Henceforth thou 
40 



AT THE DOOR 



shalt be called Judah, for in thy midst is 
born this night Him Who for all ages shall 
be known as *the Lion of the Tribe of 
Judah.' His strength shall he thy strength.'* 

The second angel stepped forward and 
said, "Thy flocks and thy herds shall mul- 
tiply as the flocks and herds of Jacob, and 
thy fields shall yield an hundredfold.'* 

The third angel quickly followed, say- 
ing, "Thy children shall honor and obey 
thee all thy days, and shall bear the glory 
of thy name through all future genera- 
tions." 

The fourth angel added, "And the days 
of thy faithful, loving wife shall be greatly 
lengthened, and she shall comfort thee all 
thy way." 

The fifth angel concluded, "Thy por- 
tion at last shall be with the just. The 
believing heart is granted thee, and thou 
shalt be forever with thy Redeemer, whom 
41 



THE STRANGERS 



this night thou hast sheltered.*' 

A joy unspeakable shone in each angel 
face, and that joy swept through the soul 
of Micaiah and made it as though a thou- 
sand harps were playing in sweetest unison. 
The joy of the angels was too great to find 
expression in the few words which they 
had uttered. Suddenly they began to 
sing — 

**0, little town of Bethlehem. 

How still we see thee lie! 
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep 

The silent stars go by: 
Yet in thy dark streets shineth 

The everlasting Light: 
The hopes and fears of all the years 

Are met in thee tonight. 

•Tor Christ is born of Mary. 
And, gathered all above. 
While mortals sleep the angels keep 
Their watch of wondering love. 
42 



AT THE DOOR 



And peace to men on earth. 
O, morning stars, together 

Proclaim the holy birth! 
And praises sing to God, the King, 

"How silently, how silently. 

The wondrous gift is given! 
So God imparts to human hearts 

The blessings of His heaven. 
No ear may hear His coming. 

But in this world of sin. 
Where meek souls will receive Him still. 

The dear Christ enters in.'* 

As they finished and were about to with- 
draw from the sleeper's sight, they said, 
"Some day a man will be bom with a soul 
so pure and a life so noble that he will 
catch this song from our lips and hand it 
down to earth." And then — they were 
gone. 

Micaiah, with heart leaping for glad- 
ness, awoke. Softly he arose from his bed. 
Quietly he wrapped his garments about 
43 



THE STRANGERS 



him. With noiseless tread he stepped to 
the heavy curtain which concealed his 
guests from view, and gently drew it aside. 
All was still! No. all was not still. A 
man, in broken tones, was praying. Mi- 
caiah was chained to the spot. He did not 
wish to intrude, but seemed powerless to 
move, and so overheard Joseph's prayer. 
It was this: "Jehovah, Thou hast given us 
Thy Son this night! Thou hast fulfilled 
Thy promise to us and to Thy people. 
We adore Thee. We bless Thy name. 
Make known Thy Son to all the earth. 
Amen." Mingled with this prayer were 
the sobs and tears of a strong man over- 
come by the greatness of the emotions 
which shook his powerful frame. 

As Joseph rose from his knees, the two 

men looked into each other's faces ; the one, 

with cheeks wet with tears, the other with 

face radiant with the light of heaven. 

44 



AT THE DOOR 



They clasped hands. They flung their 
arms about one another and wept together, 
even as David and Jonathan wept upon 
each other's neck. A common hope made 
them one. Together they knelt before the 
Babe of Bethlehem. Mary and Jochebed, 
too, joined in their adoration. They were 
the first worshipers at the feet of the new- 
born King. 

Rising from his knees, Micaiah whis- 
pered, *T must hasten, and tell the good 
news to the shepherds out upon the plains. 
Long we have waited and long we have 
prayed together for His coming." 

But he did not need to go. Already the 
shepherds were at the door. To them also 
had the angels brought the glad tidings, 
**Fear not; for behold, I bring you good 
tidings of great joy, which shall be to all 
people. For unto you is born this day, in 
the City of David, a Saviour, which is 
45 



THE STRANGERS 



Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign 
unto you: Ye shall find the Babe wrapped 
in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.** 

In a manger they were to find the Hope 
of Israel! Quickly their thoughts flew to 
Micaiah. In all Bethlehem and the hill 
country of Judea the shepherds knew of no 
one so good and true as their own Micaiah. 
To him they hastened, and within the rock- 
hewn chambers of his grotto they, too, 
found the Christ-Child. A new and won- 
drous joy flooded their souls. A new hope, 
brighter than the stars they watched by 
night, now inspired them. One passion 
took possession of them. Others must 
know the Christ-Child. 

As they turned and were about to go 
forth to spread the glad news of the Christ- 
Child, a strange sight met their eyes. An 
old man stood close behind them. It was 
Zeresh, the innkeeper. 
46 



AT THE DOOR 



Micaiah, more zealous than the other 
shepherds, had quietly left his companions 
while they were still wrapped in wonder, 
and had hastened through the little village 
of Bethlehem, telling the marvelous story 
of the coming of the Christ-Child. When 
the heart is sorely troubled man will give 
heed. So it was with Zeresh. Jehovah 
had ploughed deep, and prepared his heart 
for the new truth. Attentively he listened 
to the thrilling story of the coming of the 
Messiah as it was rapidly told by Micaiah. 
Zeres/i believed. The Christ at last had 
not knocked in vain. The innkeeper was 
no longer a child of the night, but of the 
day. No time was lost in seeking his 
greatly-wronged wife and child. Ear- 
nestly and sincerely he entreated and ob- 
tained their forgiveness, and they, too, 
turned their feet towards the Bethlehem 
manger and the Hope of the nations. 
47 



THE STRANGERS 




yea, even for thee and for me hath he 
come/' 



48 



AT THE DOOR 



As Zeresh gazed upon the Christ-Child, 
in his eyes shone a look of unutterable won- 
der, and upon his face was the glory of 
heaven. 

"Even for me He has come; even fori 
me," he said, in broken tones. Stepping to 
his side and grasping him by the hand Mi- 
caiah added, *"Tis true. The Master Mu- 
sician has come to reset the broken strings 
in every heart and reawaken the song in 
every life.*' At the same time the tender- 
hearted Joseph drew near, and wrapping his 
strong arm of love about Zeresh, said, "It 
is written, *The Sun of Righteousness shall 
arise with healing in His wings. Under 
His burning rays all cold and frost and 
snow and ice will vanish and the soul's glad 
summer time shall come with its bursting 
buds and ripening fruits. The sunshine of 
His love and mercy is for all. Yea, even 
for thee and for me hath He come.' '* 
49 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

llilllliiilillilillllllliilil! 

018 395 645 ^ 



